Chapter IV: Matter of Perception
Throughout that night, Belle had trouble staying asleep for too long. She dreamt she was on a sailboat wearing a wedding dress with Mr. Gold sailing them through a strait surrounded by cliffs leading to the ocean. Just as they make it into the ocean, a storm strikes with Belle seeing Mr. Gold continuing to steer the boat into the ocean despite the vessel's structure falling apart and her pleas to turn around. The boat soon after collides with a large wave resulting in its capsizing.
Belle woke up in a state of panic, heavily breathing seeing to see she was in her hotel room as the sun just beginning to rise. She got out of bed and spent the next two hours looking through her wardrobe for a perfect outfit. Disappointed with every choice, she threw nearly all her clothes onto the bed. All she had were pencil skirts cut mid-calf either in grey or black. Boring. She rummaged through the closet and throwing out the remaining sweaters, blouses and blazers into the floor without a second glance. Belle sighed in frustration, then crouched down on the floor for a second inspection.
She picked on of the drab skirts, then noticed a white blouse alongside her cerulean short-sleeved sweater. Looking into the mirror, Belle draped the sweater over nightgown. It was so perfect she even blushed at how pretty the colors looked on her. She layered the white blouse beneath the sweater, and finished the outfit with a white ascot. She felt sophisticated and beautiful. As a final touch, she pinned her hair in a chignon, but it was messy, her hair sliding every which way. Instead she brushed her way wayward curls to the side and donned a beret.
Belle examined her reflection again; something was still missing.
Her hair had been properly brushed, and not a stitch or seam was out of place. She even pressed her sweater twice after catching some lint on the sleeve. Belle inspected her face. Would a hint of rouge would have been too much? Taking the bottle, she decided to save it for another day, then pinched her cheeks and headed out her room grabbing her handbag from the door.
Belle wondered what Mr. Gold would have in mind for them today. The tingling sensation on her lips from last night's kiss was still fresh. It has been a lovely, not sloppy or awkward. She remembered her schoolmates from secondary school talk about kissing their beaux in the same matter as one would be greeted by a pet: al slobbers, Belle laugh and her stomach fluttered again as she thought of Gold's warm lips against hers.
She whispered a small prayer for a repeat performance.
Belle stopped daydreaming and looked at the clock. She needed to slip out of the suite before Mrs. Mills requested for her to do an errand. Her employer was increasingly frustrated with the nurse, claiming the woman didn't know how to follow orders. Belle knew these moments away were precious; it was only a matter of time before the doctor gave Cora clearance and fired the nurse. Then everything would be back to normal and Belle would no longer be free to roam about the European countryside with her books, her camera and Mr. Gold.
Going over to the coffee table, Belle discovered the daily mail included an ivory envelope only addressed in her name. Immediately recognized the handwriting and ripped it open.
"Something has come up at the last minute requiring my immediate attention. I shall be back later this afternoon with the hope of seeing you t later tonight for dinner. Leave a message at my room and I will meet you at the lobby 6.
Many Apologies"
"At least he is considerate." Belle thought lowering her body onto the cushions of the couch.
She took a deep breath and read the letter. Tears pricked her eyes. The constant yelling of Mrs. Mills overwhelmed Belle, and she slipped out of the suite and into the corridor.
Feeling aimless, Belle walked blindly into the elevator. She no longer had any plans for the day. When the doors opened up, Belle headed to the reception desk and dashed off a note to Mr. Gold accepting both his apologies and invitation. She left the reception desk remembering she had not gone to the library and today appeared to be a perfect time to visit.
The public library was fairly sized, but she still felt lost looking around. She smiled in appreciation, the building was adequately stocked with books, newspapers and microform. The librarian was rather peevish, insisting on absolute silence in the library. Not even whispers were permitted and she scolded Belle for her attempt to ask for directions. In her frustration, Belle glanced at the pamphlets on the reception desk noticing a container of maps she quickly picked up.
Belle headed to the microform department to hunt down every single bit of information she could find regarding Mr. Gold of Aberdeenshire. The results were several scrolls of pages which detailed nearly fifty years' worth of information. The records had to with his father, Malcolm Gold, a third generation landowner whose fortune came from the textile factories in Southern Scotland and Northern England.
From what Belle could gather; Malcolm Gold had a reputation for being more of a playboy than a business man due to his drunken exploits and mistresses leaving him at odds with his wife of thirty years. Gold's mother was an English socialite with a head for business; she'd taking over husband's legacy until her son, Robert Gold inherited it when he became of age. Several other articles showed how Gold had been describe as a Boy Wonder in the business world, as well as described both ruthless and cunning. The next article to catch her eye featured a photograph of Gold as a younger man. Belle nearly couldn't believe it was him. The younger man in the photograph had his eyes, golden and trusting and not so piercing. His hair, while somewhat long, was slicked back for the fashion of the time.
Next to him stood a woman of the same age with a mature face showing an air of confidence.
Everything about this woman spoke elegance. Her dark was haired styled so her hat outlined the features of her face perfectly, her white dress and stole were so well-tailored Belle assumed her garments had been sewn directly onto her body. She rather reminded Belle of Mrs. Mills during her younger years. But it was the caption on the photograph that caused Belle to spark with envy.
Milah Cassidy
So this was Milah, Mrs. Mills had not been exaggerating about her beauty. It is clear to see why he was so much in love with her.
The article discussed Gold's recent engagement to London debutante Milah Cassidy, a fluff piece mostly detailing their courtship with endless parties and presents. Bored, Belle to stop reading the article and skipped to the next one. The article showed the couple several years later to be vacationing in the Channels accompanied by a young boy about ten years old. Belle assumed he was Gold's son Neal. She saw more of his father in the boy through his face, as he had the soulful eyes and a cheeky grin, but the features and hair were very much inherited by his mother. They were so happy in this photograph she could see why everyone would want to surround themselves with this family. The caption below the photo suited them perfectly.
The Golds: Model British Family
Just as she began to close up the microfiche, Belle stumbled onto one last article.
Socialite and wife of textile mogul found dead from a sailing accident.
The title of the article was in big bold letters. A hand drawn photo of Milah providing better detail to her likeness than the previous photographs. Belle continued reading, the accident occurred a few miles on the beachside close to their family home. The accident had shocked and saddened the community as Mrs. Gold was reputed to be an excellent sailor.
They must have had disagreements over her sailing and she continued to demonstrate how nothing will stop her from performing her hobby. They didn't deserve to lose her.
At a second glance, Belle saw the sailboat where a shiver coursed through Belle when she noticed it looked identical to the one from her dream. She refused to think of a connection and closed the microform. She took a deep breath and went towards the book shelves determined to place the news behind her.
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While Belle had difficulty choosing an outfit earlier in the day, a dress for a supper date was easy. She had only one suitable evening gown to her name. A floor-length emerald gown with a ruffled collar enhancing her shoulders to appear broad. She gathered the iron to press her dress, then retrieved the black peep toe pumps from the closet, along with a black, satin shawl.
After an hour of fussing over herself, Belle dabbed a touch of rouge on her pale checks, then carefully tucked the bottle into her small white purse along with extra pins. As she left the suite, Belle check on the nurse who was dozing in a chair. Cora was fortunately deeply sedated. Belle hoped the nurse would awaken before the mediation wore off on the tumultuous patient.
When the elevator door opened to the lobby, Belle immediately spotted Mr. Gold. He was so sprawled in a chair, his long elegant fingers draped over the head of his cane. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo that Belle felt her cheeks heat. Or maybe it was the look in his eyes when Gold stood up, never taking his eyes off of her as he crossed the marble floor to meet her.
"You look lovely tonight."
"Thank you" she said, making a small curtsey
He bowed over her hand and kissed it, , "I am glad you made it Leannan. I almost began to worry."
"You called me that yesterday," she said softly.
His smile widened. "My apologies, it's a Gaelic term for 'sweetheart' Do you not care for it?"
"Oh" she looked down hiding her expression. "Interesting. I just wasn't sure. Shall we?" He nodded offering her his arm and they headed toward the car.
They drove off for a little bit, with Belle looking through the window and admitting the lit buildings followed by the strip of coastline. "Did you get whatever you needed to be done?"
Gold smiled back at her through the rear view window. "It went well; a little longer than expected."
"I'm sorry to hear that." She smiled back in an attempt not to fidget.
"Did you find a way to amuse yourself while playing nursemaid?"
"Relieved once again today, I mainly spent the day at the library and bought a few scarves at this boutique close to the town square."
"If you decide to take a trip to the mountains, you will have plenty of opportunity to use them." His eyes sparkled in amusement.
"Perhaps." She smiled at him again, then rolled down the window to enjoy the night breeze.
They parked at a restaurant on the coast. Belle peeked into the foyer, finding a dazzling, low-lit chandelier lighting and the orchestra playing classical music towards the other end. Some of the patrons danced amongst the dinner table that dotted the room. They were escorted towards a private dining room with a terrace to a view of the ocean.
Gold ordered a bottle of wind and the hostess handed him a package dressed a dark red wrapping and tied with a white bow.
"Aren't you going to open your gift?" he asked, nudging the package n her direction. Belle turned to Gold.
Belle carefully unwrapped the box. Inside was the collection of her parents' book with the illustrations still in the exact likeness of how when her father first drew them. The cover featured an imp character in an exaggerated pose while the back cover was a picture of his assistant, and the side art showing them following one another form a castle to a magically controlled carriage.
Belle clasped the box set to her chest, trying to withhold her tears. When her mother had gotten sick, her father used whatever was in their disposable to pay for the medication. Their copies of the illustrations were just another possession sold to prolong her life. Belle tried to retrieve them after her father died, but she was told the owner sold them to an antique shop in London.
"When you mentioned the books last week, it immediately dawned on me I read these to Neal when he was young. Since the books were fairly popular in Britain, it wasn't difficult in tracking them down which bookstores would have collection copies. Belle threw herself into Gold's arms, nearly causing the chair to topple.
"I'm touched you did this for me. They are one of the few things I have of my parents." She dried her eyes and returned to her seat. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had given her such a gift.
Gold brushed it aside as though it were a common occurrence he had not want to accept her praises. From what she remembered in the articles, Mr. Gold was ruthless towards those around him to where there had been several rumors about livelihoods being outright destroyed. She found it hard to believe the same man sitting opposite her gave her a set of books for sentimental worth.
Was there to Mr. Gold?
"I still appreciate this." Belle sipped her wine, eying Gold over the rim of the glass. "Neal is your son?"
Gold nodded, but began to fidget even as they were presented with their entrees.
Belle couldn't understand what the problem was; it would seem natural for any parent to talk about his offspring. "Is something wrong?"
Gold took a bit of his lamb then looked at Belle. "I haven't seen Neal in nearly two years. He lives in London with his wife Emma; however we do talk on the phone whenever one of us has the opportunity. I am sure Emma and Neal would like you. Emma is….not tactful. She's a headstrong, tomboy of a woman, but she is utterly devoted to my son. Hey make an excellent match.
Belle laughed listening to Gold's stories about Neal and Emma. She felt as though she already knew them based on how vividly Gold described them. Emma worked as a private investigator in London who was not happy her clients forced her to work in the East End. Neal worked at the London branch of the family company. Belle remembered from the photograph showing a young Neal; the date on the article was fifteen years ago.
"He's twenty five in case you were wondering" It seemed Gold must have read her mind as she sheepishly blushed at the thought and Gold gave her a concerned look.
"From the way you had been describing Neal, I had expected to him to be a young child." Belle took drank the remaining glass of her wine as she took a deep breath to say what was on her mind. "How old are you?"
Gold blinked. "I'm 45, Miss French"
"Pardon me for saying this, but when you smile, you do appear to be ten years younger. It's a good look on you." She winked, teasing Gold into grinning back at her.
"It seems I have had much reason to laugh lately."
The orchestra began a new song, and they lapsed into silence.
Heaven, I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak….
Gold stood up offering his hand to Belle, "Would you care to dance, Miss French?"
"I would love to." Belle followed Gold to the terrace, and they danced and laughed until the nightclub closed.
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People were staring, but Belle was too happy to care.
Gold insisted on escorting Belle back to her hotel room, neither worrying about impropriety as they became bolder in their displays of affections. Gold corned Belle on the elevator, molding his lips onto hers. The kiss deepened, and Belle only dropped her present and yanked on the lapels of his jacket moving him closer.
They continued kissing for another several floors until the elevator arrived on Belle's floor.
"I probably will be busy dealing with Mrs. Mills for the next few days." Placing her hand against his cheek, she said. "I really did have a wonderful time."
Belle giggled and gave Gold a chaste kiss on the lips. Bell quickly got off the elevator before she made a rash decision in her state of bliss.
Before entering the suite, Belle tided her hair and tried to appear not so flushed. Cora was alone in the sitting room dressed in her elaborate red robe and writing a letter.
"Oh there you are, I was beginning to consider gathering a search party." Cora looked Belle up and down with disapproval, dampening her mood. "What have you been doing?"
The older woman looked at her sharply. Without he drugs in her system, Cora missed nothing.
"I played tennis earlier this afternoon," she lied, blurting out the first thing to have come into her mind. "Afterwards I went to some of the gaming tables."
Cora continued her inspection, and Belle mentally cursing herself for not being a talented liar.
She placed her pen down onto the jar of cleansing cream and lit up a cigarette. "The trouble is me being laid up like this is you haven't enough to do." She let out a puff, causing her cough violently. "All I can say is that I hope your tennis has improved, it would be useful for you in the long run sine a poor player is a bore." After a few puffs, Cora mashed her cigarette onto the top of the jar of cleansing cream and returned to her letter.
Belle made Cora a cup of tea and emptied the full ashtrays. How many cigarettes had the woman smoked today?
"Now get to bed," Cora barked. "I need you to dictate some letters for me in the morning."
"Yes Mrs. Mills…."
"Just one more thing," Belle turned around to find Cora sneering at her. "You tried a little too hard with the rouge."
Belle nodded and went to her room. As she slid under the covers, she suddenly wondered if Mr. Gold had thought the rouge made her look silly too. He was a sophisticated man twice her age. Did she look like a little girl trying to play dress up?
She lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts went back to her dream from last night and the article regarding Mrs. Gold's death.
Could Neal have blamed his father for his mother's death because he never refused her sailing and that was why they haven't spoken to one another? I care for Mr. Gold but hardly know the man, a few dates and reading several newspapers articles doesn't mean we are best friends. Then we are sneaking around as though we have something to hide.
What should I do?
Belle got up headed to the bathroom to get a glass of water. The hotel issued several sleeping pills in their dispensary, taking a few hoping it would help her in what she already knew would become another restless night.